Summary: You don't find Matt Murdock as pleasing as Dex does. What happens when Matt tries learning more about you?
WC: 4.4k
Tags/Warnings: one shot. Takes place during DDBA S2 and after. Slightly jealous Dex. Cannibalism. Food to describe cannibalism. Graphic descriptions. Violence. Confrontations. Matt realizes you're more of a freak than Dex is (kinda). Maybe ooc? Not proofread! Apart of the "Guy Next Door Series!"
A/N: I didn't know how to fit this in the main story. So, here's a little one shot of the idea!
⌯⁍ masterlist ⌯⁍
It's not like Matt was oblivious to what was going on.
He had heard about the multiple missing Task Force agents and the new appearance of a vigilante. Someone with a fitting name for what they did, Maneater.
Of course, the news has been denying that the missing cases are linked to the vigilante, but everyone knew it.
Yet, what stumped Matt the most was his recent find at the Bel-Air diner. Task Force agents and the NYPD have said that it was Bullseye who did this, even leaving his own mark as if to proudly present his work.
However, when Matt went to search the area, he noticed a splatter of blood on the floor that was different from the rest. It was like it had been pooling from a larger inflicted wound. When he investigated, the pool of blood would have come from chopping off two fingers.
What on Earth was Bullseye going to do with two fingers? They were nowhere in the crime scene anymore. When he smelt around, he couldn't smell anyone else that had been in the diner with him.
It was just him.
That left Matt to the drawing board for a while. He couldn't really think much of it at the time because he still had to deal with the issue of Task Force and the city being under control of Wilson Fisk.
Matt eventually did find Bullseye after successfully assassinating Vanessa Fisk, his "good deed" as he called it. In the crossfire, Bullseye was shot and they were both forced to see shelter away from Task Force prying eyes.
He had taken him to his bunker where Karen was, but was not happy to see the person who murdered Foggy in their secret location. Eventually, Matt would have to send Karen away from the area in order for Bullseye not to persuade Karen to take his own life.
When he slowly stood from the bench, Matt sat down on a chair and called out to him, "That day at the diner..."
Dex turned his head, grabbing onto his wound, to look at what he was talking about.
Matt continued with, "You severed two fingers off of an agent. Your clothes, the smelled of a woman's perfume. Who are you protecting?"
Matt could hear Dex's heartbeat start to skyrocket. Dex held his head down, shaking it and responding with, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," Matt responded back to him.
"It's nobody," He shook his head, groaning as he shifted his posture away from him.
"Well, whoever, this nobody is...keep her out of this," Matt answered back.
"It's not me you should be telling this too," Dex scoffed towards him. "Because I still have no idea what you are talking about."
He knew that Dex was lying, but he was obviously not going to tell him much. Instead, he decided to leave it at that and talk about something else, his favor he needed from Dex.
Launching his daggers towards agents within the stairwell, you took the opportunity to rush in, increasing your muscle density as you do. As you make your way up the stairs, you encounter an agent pointing their gun at you.
Grabbing the front of the gun, you launch it up before kicking your leg straight into the man's chest. He loses grip of his gun and you hold onto it. As he tries to get up, you swing the hilt of the gun straight down into his head, knock him out.
You drop the gun down before looking back down the stairs to see Dex walking up.
Eyeing him up and down, you say, "You're extremely slow."
"Yeah, well, I got shot a couple days ago," Dex grunted while walking up to your part of the stairs.
"Excuses," You rolled your eyes before nudging your head up. "Your turn, now."
"Bossy," Dex only responded back with before immediately walking up the stairs.
You watched as he grabbed multiple different daggers from his belt. You waited a few stairs behind him as he made his way up to the top of the building.
He sent out one of the daggers straight to the head of a Task Force agent before promptly sending another one straight into his skull. With three other daggers, he sent them all towards the second agent before he had time to react and shoot at him.
They were both dead within seconds.
Making his way inside, you decided to follow a few seconds behind as he is faced to face with the last agent.
One who was disguised as him.
You walked your way towards one of the pillars, watching from behind it. You can hear Dex chuckling softly at his failed attempt of being him. His imposter was holding his hands up and had backed away from the sniper that was pointed towards the courthouse.
They both stood there for a moment before the imposter tried to reach for his gun. Immediately, Dex sends his dagger towards the gun and knocks it out of his hand. The pain shoots through the faker's hand and causes him to groan out.
Seeing the gun still in front of the imposter, Dex sends three daggers towards it to push it away. As he did, the imposter tried to grab it, but ended up having a dagger stabbed right through his hand.
He cried out from pain, causing you to appear from the pillar. You look down at the two who were already dead, assessing your meals, before hearing Dex send one last dagger into the head of the imposter.
Slowly walking your way towards Dex, you hear him mutter, "Poser..."
Crouching down towards his imposter, you poked his cheek and said, "It's not even a good replica. These people are desperate."
Quickly, you grabbed onto the arm of the agent and clamped down into his arm. You tore it away from the rest and started to indulge.
Swallowing the piece, you looked up towards your partner, asking, "So, why are we helping Daredevil?"
"Didn't his friend almost kill you?" You rolled your eyes before taking a bigger chunk out from frustration.
"Yes, but we're helping him from letting Fisk getting away with this. Task Force can be gone tonight," Dex explained to you.
Humming as you swallowed the piece, you looked back at him, "I suppose..."
"You're complaining," Dex sighed towards you.
Squinting your eyes at him, "I'm not. I just don't really appreciate the fact you went behind my back and almost ended up dead."
You could hear him sigh behind his mask, "And I apologize. I'm trying to make it up to you right now..."
Looking down at the arm in front of you, you could feel your frustration dissipate and you start to fight back a smile. You felt giddy as you replied back with, "You are..."
Your conversation fell silent after that with Dex looking into the building, looking for signs of Fisk. You were just enjoying your meals, moving from each of the bodies to get different tastes. As you were feasting, you found a radio nearby in the abandoned building.
You turned it on and turned the dial to a radio station playing the live feed of the court room. You could hear conversations being had between Matt Murdock and Wilson Fisk. He was really interrogating him to admit the truth.
However, he seemed to be trying to avoid answering it. Leading Matt to pull out one last trick, calling out to the world, "I am Daredevil."
You paused as you heard the words, turning to look back at Dex, "That's interesting..."
You stood up from the agent, walking towards the window where Dex was staring at. Your hands were resting at your sides, dripping with blood. Your mouth was no different, dripping blood down onto your chest.
Doing your best to wipe your mouth with your upper arm, you made your way to look down at the courthouse. "Must be the dumbest decision someone can make."
Licking your thumb, you responded with, "He is...very strange."
Dex looked up from the scope of the sniper to look at you. He squinted his eyes as if testing what you meant by that.
You immediately brighten your blood smile at him and softly chuckled, "What? Scared I'll eat him?"
"No, because I told him to stay away from you," Dex answered back.
"What if you're not home if he tries looking for me?" You questioned him.
"That's never going to happen," Dex answered back, snapping his head back to the scope.
You tilt your head at him, softly snickering at his reaction, before saying, "Of course, Dex."
Life after the trial turned out to be more chaotic than you had thought it would be.
You managed to secure a job with the one and only Mr. Charles. Working behind the scenes to get rid of people without a trace. You were able to use your skill to good use finally.
However, with both of your working, there would be days that you two would be on and off call at different times. On one of those days, you were landed to stay home, and Dex was sent somewhere in Europe.
You didn't really mind when he did, but that was because he made sure to text every hour about what he was doing. He made sure to always let you know that he still wanted to be there for you. He knew that you would be there for him in return.
It was one of those quiet afternoons where it was quiet and there wasn't much to watch on the TV, but you didn't mind. You were going to go to bed early tonight anyways.
However, there was someone on your trail . . .
Matt thought he fully had a lead on Dex this time.
After the events of the trial and him being thrown into jail, he hadn’t heard a peep from Dex. However, with multiple high class individuals mysteriously winding up dead, he knew there was only one person capable of that.
From multiple sources, people have led him towards an apartment building in Brooklyn, away from Hell’s Kitchen.
His senses could smell that Dex lived within one of the apartments. It had been recently that he had visited the building too.
Tilting his head to the side, he listened in to the building for any heart rate or noise that would sound like him. However, there had been no sound that even sounded familiar to Dex.
Walking toward the dark alleyway of the building, he found himself in front of an old fire escape. Matt grabbed onto the ladder and jumped up onto the fire escape. He began to climb up the fire escape with his ears listening in to the sounds inside the apartment rooms.
Most of the rooms were people enjoying their night, watching TV and getting ready for bed.
Nothing seemed out of place.
However, as he got higher into the building, his senses were drawn to a window with blinds completely closed. Making his way over towards the window, he placed his hands on the window and leaned in closer to the glass.
He could hear the sound of a person shuffling within the apartment.
He could have ignored it and moved onto the next window. However, something seemed off.
The smell of disinfectant escaped from the small gap of the window and straight into his nose. When he looked inside the room with his senses, he could see that shoes were placed in a specific order and not thrown randomly.
The multiple marks in which have been stabbed within the wall as if there was a frantic need for control.
The room was something that Dex would use to cope. To deal with justifying his actions of killing and murdering people. To have the control he always wanted.
But what scared Matt the most was there was a clear feminine presence within the apartment. You.
Someone Dex had tried denying back when they were taking down Fisk. He had been harboring you in this room.
How could he know you were safe and not being forced here under your will?
He needed to investigate further.
Drawing down the screen of the window, he reached the bottom of it before starting to slowly pry it open. He made sure not to make a sound as he did so. For all he knew, Dex could be hiding in the apartment or set alarms to alert if she were to "escape".
Once he got enough of an opening,
he quickly stepped into the strong smell of disinfectant and the smell of something else.
Something that seeped into the wooden floors that, no matter how much you scrubbed, still stuck to the floor. The smell of iron infiltrated his nose. All that ran through Matt’s mind was the worst.
The things that he could be doing to you.
Slowly walking through the apartment, he could hear the soft sound of a heartbeat from within the bedroom on the far left corner from where he was. Something immediately snapped in him that this was now a hostage situation, and he needed to get you out of this.
Walking towards the room, he inched closer towards the door.
Out reaching his arm towards the door, he slowly pushed it open. The door creaked pierced through the stillness of the room like a knife. He could tell that the room was pitch black, as if no one was in the room.
As he walked into the room, he could hear the sound of someone turning their head and their breath hitching to a pause.
Walking more into the room, he could hear the sound of the heartbeat increasing. He could feel someone standing in the dark corner of the room, just waiting.
The heartbeat didn’t sound frightened.
That iron smell from the living area seemed to radiate from her mouth as well.
Immediately, he realized he got this whole situation wrong.
Quickly, he tried turning his head towards her but found her already running towards him. You let out a loud yell with your arm extended back with a knife in your hand. Immediately, he grabbed your wrist to try to divert the knife out of your hand.
Twisting your wrist, you let out a groan in pain and barred your teeth towards him. Matt could hear the sounds of your muscles expanding within your legs, causing him to furrow his eyebrows and look at you confused.
At that moment, you were tightening your grip back on the knife and began to push him out of the room. Yelling out, you traveled the muscle mass up towards your arms before shoving him back. Matt fell back into a wall, knocking multiple frames out of the wall and leaving a dent into the wall.
Quickly, you made your way over to him and grabbed his collar. Tightening your grip again on Dex’s knife, you tried pushing it down onto Matt, but he immediately kicked his leg up and shoved you to the ground, slamming your head onto the wooden floors with a loud wack!
Matt pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the pain in his head, and making his way over to where you fell. Stepping on your wrist, you let out a large yell, but it was enough to make you let go of the knife. He snagged it out of your hand, keeping your wrist pinned under his boot.
Feeling around the knife, he could feel the words Bon Appetite written on it. Matt’s face would scrunch up, confused on what it meant, before feeling your hand claw into his calf. Looking down, he could see you trying to clamp down on his calf with sharp fangs.
Immediately, he kicked you off of him before backing up from you to get a better look at what he was dealing with. You got up from the ground, your body almost failing to act like a human from the impact.
“What are you?” Matt spoke up towards you, while placing the knife in his back pocket. “How do you know Bullseye?”
“I don’t answer to you,” You responded back quickly before running over to him with the muscle mass increased in your arms.
As you try to throw punches at him, he quickly avoids them, countering them and landing punches back at you. Back and forth would you would go at each other, him trying to use all his might to bring you down.
As he lands a punch to your nose, you hold it for a second as you process the stinging feeling in her nose. Your eyes start to water as you went out a groan in pain.
Pulling your hand away from your face, your blood had stained your fingers as you tried to stop the bleeding. Slowly looking back up at him with an amused expression, you tightened your fist. You launched your hand back before landing a fatal blow to his chest.
From the sheer power built up from the blow, he immediately got sent back to and through the wall, landing him right into the kitchen.
Walking your way through the new hole, you slowly walk towards him, your fists still balled up. You stand beside him and look down to see if he was still alive.
Finally getting a good look, you realized who this was, this was Daredevil. Crouching down in front of him, you checked to see if he was still alive. Seeing his chest rise up and down, you knew that you had just knocked him out.
As you stared at him, you realized that you wanted to make this night more interesting while asking your intruder why he was here.
Sitting yourself down at your dining table, you pulled your plate closer towards you with the biggest smile on your face. You had the pleasure of cooking for Daredevil.
You had cooked both of the meals in the kitchen after tying Matt to his chair and having the pleasure to take off his mask. I mean, how else would he have eaten? It couldn't have been comfortable having that on.
Pushing your chair in, you were about to dig in, but your eyes landed to Matt in front of you. He was still knocked out after everything.
Letting out a deep sigh, you launched your foot back before kicking him straight in the shin. You see him jolt awake and immediately try to break free from his binds.
He began to look around the room, trying to understand where he was, until his eyes landed onto you.
You smile at him. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
You point at the food in front of him with your fork. "I made you some food."
You began to cut your own food into smaller pieces. In your own mind, you believed that you were cutting into a nice steak. "I promised its seasoned well."
Matt's hands were tied behind his back, limiting him from even eating the food. However, as he stared down the plate, his nostril filled with the scent of flesh. Human flesh.
He tilted his head away from it, answering with, "I'm not eating this."
You stopped chewing as you hear his words. You look up to look at him, swallowing your food, and tilt your head at him.
You look down at his food, then back at him, before asking, "Why not?"
"You know, it's rude to refuse food the host makes you," You shrugged as you grab another piece onto the fork.
"I know what this really is," He spat through his teeth, causing you to just snicker.
From the moment he had woken up, he realized that Dex was not harboring some frightened woman, no. He was holding you. Someone who the public fears for her name and what she does. Matt was staring directly at the person named Maneater.
"Steak?" You raised an eyebrow at him, as if he was the crazy one for assuming things.
"Human."
You just hummed out at his answer and raised another piece into your mouth. As you ate, you can hear him making a scoff and his face cringing as he watched you eat.
When you placed your fork down after swallowing the piece, you looked at him and said, "Well, if you aren't going to eat, I have some questions for you."
He dropped his head down, letting out a sigh from how he got himself into this situation, before looking up at you again. "What...what do you want to ask me?"
"Why did you sneak into my apartment?" You asked him, pushing your chair further in.
"I was looking for Benjamin Poindexter. Leads were telling me he was here," Matt explained to you, causing you to snort.
You shook your head and respond with, "Your leads are wrong. Dex doesn't live here. Sure, he visits, but he doesn't live here."
Matt would listen to your heart and could hear it beating fast in your chest. "You're lying. He lives here, with you."
You roll your eyes and scoff, "Dex wasn't lying...you can hear heartbeats."
"So, he lives here?" Matt questioned back to you.
"I didn't say that."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You keep lying, Maneater."
You grabbed your knife beside your plate, getting frustrated, before slamming it straight down into the wooden table, yelling back, "I'm the one asking questions! Not you!"
The room went silent again. Matt realizing agitating you was not the best option.
You blinked once and returned to your peaceful demeanor, asking him, "So, you're still doing this whole...Daredevil thing?"
"Yes," Matt answered back, causing you to hum out in response.
"You know, Matt--can I call you Matt?" You tilt you head at him.
"I prefer you don't, but I don't believe I have a choice with you," Matt answered back, making you snicker.
"You're right!" You snicker before continuing, "Anyways, Matt. I don't really like this thing you got on. Only because you're...in the way."
"Your whole protecting lives is just...stupid," You shake your head at him. "It's also very inefficient when getting the job done. Like, with Wilson Fisk? Boreee..."
"And your solution is to...eat them?" Matt shakes his head. "I don't understand how that's the better option here."
"I don't...!" You voice slightly raised in agitation before calming yourself down and answering with, "I don't do it because that is something I enjoy doing. I do it out of necessity."
"Necessity makes you do crazy things. Hunger does crazy things," You explained to him while looking down at your food. "I am the way I am because I was born like this. Not because of who nurtured me. I was born with this."
"That's why Dex is helping you...he thinks killing these people all in the name to feed you is some sort of infinite cosmic balance for him..." Matt scoffed while furrowing his eyebrows in realization.
"What's so wrong with that? Having his mind being able to understand what is being forced of him to do?" You questioned him with your own eyebrows furrowed at him.
"The world looked at him and called him a monster. They used his gift and made him into that. People looked at me and believed I was a monster without ever understanding where I am coming from!" You explained back to him, raising from your seat.
"People like you," You pointed at him, "Come here to judge. Come here to scoff for the way we live, but society made us who we are!"
"I decided to move away from that horrid life and join freedom with Dex. A man who doesn't judge me and wants to be near me," You spat down at him.
Matt fully understood what Dex meant that he shouldn't have been saying those words to him. He understood the need to keep away from the light and stay where he was until necessary.
You. You wanted to make a big grand gesture to tell the world you weren't ashamed of what you did. He knew you didn't when most newspapers had your recent kills splattered on the front page. You hated to conform and Dex struggled to.
You both met in the middle, leaving you to commit crimes together. You were the brain of the two, not the other way around. You had him by your side to explain what it meant to be fully free.
"I hate people like you, Matt Murdock, who thinks the system works. When in reality, the system separated the normal from the freaks and puts a label on them before they even know what it means," You scrunch up your face towards him.
"Bad people deserve to go. Bad people only have one purpose for me out of their entire miserable lives, to be my food," You explained you him before pulling the knife out of the table.
Gripping onto the knife tightly, you started to slowly making your way towards Matt. He started trying to loosen the ropes that binded him, but it was no use. As you got closer, he continued to fight with the rope until you bent down to place the knife onto the rope.
"I want you to leave, Matt Murdock. Leave before I do something I regret," You whispered to him. "The last thing I want is to be on Dex's bad side."
Ah. There was still the need to be good for Dex. It was vice versa for the both of you.
"Okay..." He whispered back to you before you cut the rope.
"Leave. I never want to see you again, Daredevil," You hissed at him while he pulled his hands in front of him to rub where his wrists were hurting.
He grabbed his mask from the kitchen counter, placing it on his head once again, answering with, "Understood."
"Good," You answered back, knife still tight in your hand.
You watched as he turned his back towards you and made his way out the window. In one swift move, he was gone. It was like he had never entered your apartment.
You stood there, alone in your apartment building, feeling a hatred for him building up. You knew you could do much with how him and Dex were. He had exiled Wilson Fisk and eliminated your fear of ever being found out.
However, the way he used the system to defend every single detail enraged you. It made no sense in your own mind.
You stood there, in your kitchen, with two plates still full of food. Now, were extremely cold.
Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Explicit Sexual Content: Oral Sex.
Canon-Typical depictions of violence and gun violence, attempted assault, crime, and injury, etc. There's also an age gap. See my AO3 for the full detailed warning list.
Summary: When you move into your new apartment, you don't run into your only direct neighbour straight away.
When you do finally meet him, he's certainly not what you expected, considering you'd heard him climbing up and down the fire escape in the dead of night before.
Word Count: 9,852 • Masterlist
The next morning, your eyes are red and puffy from crying all night.
Matt never came round, so that was the end of it, you suppose.
Leaving for the office purposefully earlier than you normally would in case you ran into him, you fake smile your way through work, adamantly ignoring your phone blowing up with calls and texts from who you can only assume is Matt.
Why does he care so much? He didn’t care enough last night when he was literally a few feet away from you to even explain in person.
When you finally do check your messages, you hate the way a little bit of hope blooms at his words.
9:43am
Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥: I’m so sorry, I swear it’s not like that. She’s just a friend
(1) Missed Calls from Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥
11:22am
Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥: I can explain everything, just please call me back
12:31pm
Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥: Sweetheart?
1:52pm
Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥: Come over when you finish work later, please? Let me explain?
Sexy Lawyer❤️🔥: You’re the best thing in my life, and I don’t want to lose you already. Please just talk to me
His words pull at your heartstrings, but what are you supposed to think? You’ve been down this road before. A man like him would have no problem getting any woman he wants, so why would he choose you?
The end of the day comes all too quickly, and suddenly, you’re stood in front of his door.
You’d been rolling it over in your mind all day, whether or not to go and hear him out, or save yourself even more grief and just have a clean break.
If you could even call it that, you remind yourself again that he isn’t yours.
Just as you raise your hand to knock, the door swings open and nothing can prepare you for what you see.
There stands Matt this time, looking rather distraught but that’s not what shocks you.
“Jesus Christ Matt, what the fuck happened to you?” You gasp out as soon as you see the state of him.
The large man who usually walks with his head held high, completely put together, is hunched over wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants, one of his big arms defensively curling around his middle like he’s trying to stop an ache.
God his face. There’s deep, purple bruises littering his skin, around his eyes, down his nose.
Christ, he looks like he got beat up.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Karen’s just a friend I swear” he rushes out the second you stop speaking, “she was just here looking after me because I- I got hit by a car…”
Matt steps, or more like shuffles aside so you can walk through his door to stand in his hallway, and your eyes stay locked in on looking at his extensive injuries. You realise the reason he never came round to say sorry in person is because he probably couldn’t actually walk.
“She didn’t know who you were, I swear she would have explained if she did. I talk to her about you all the time. It’s nothing like that, I swear she’s just my friend. I’m so sorry, please, please believe me” Matt continues, stepping a little closer towards you, but the movement is far less graceful than you’re used to him being, and for a second, you think he genuinely might be about to get on his knees and beg.
He tries to hide it, but the pain on his face from standing is undeniable, so without really thinking, you just take his arm and wrap it around your shoulder to help support him, before slowly leading him to the sofa.
Matt grunts at the movement but still follows you. Just as you sit on his sofa, expecting him to do the same, he really does drop to his knees in front of you.
His hands reach out to gently hold yours on your lap, your legs towards the unhurt side of his chest.
“I’m so, so sorry, please, please forgive me?” Matt pleads, looking desperate.
The shake of your head makes his face fall before you talk.
“Oh Matt, I’m the one who should be sorry” you start, guilt steadily rising the longer you look at him, “I- I just jumped to conclusions and you’ve been here hurt this whole time, I’m sorry…” you finish, looking down in embarrassment at your overreaction.
“No, you didn’t do anything, I’m the one who should be sorry” he tells you, “I just- I should have told you, I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“I thought… I thought I wasn’t enough for you.” You admit quietly, voice barely a whisper.
The older man immediately pulls you towards him, into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a shakey breath, but your own arms hover, not wrapping around him fully, unsure of where he’s hurt.
“You’re more than enough for me” he says quietly but firmly into your skin, “you’re perfect, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel like that.”
Leaning back a little, your fingers trace one of the bruises on his face lightly.
“How bad is it?” You ask tentatively.
“It’s okay, the worst is just a couple of broken ribs” Matt answers, eyes fluttering slightly at the sensation of the light contact on his face.
Just broken ribs?
“You don’t look okay” you mumble.
“It probably looks worse than it feels” he tries to reassure, but you don’t really believe him.
The stinging in your eyes gets stronger with every passing second you look at him. He’s been over here like this, agonising over you not replying while he’s been in so much pain.
“I’m so sorry” you sob, leaning forward to hide your face in his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart, please don’t cry, I’m okay. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, I promise. It’s me who should be sorry” Matt says gently, cradling the back of your head while his other hand rubs your back comfortingly.
“It’s my fault” he continues softly after your cries quieten a little, “I- I was the one who avoided texting you back in the first place, you weren’t wrong to trust your instincts, I was acting weird. I just- you shouldn’t have to deal with this, with me like this. I didn’t want to upset you but I just made it worse by avoiding you, I didn’t mean to hurt you sweetie, I’m so sorry, I should have just told you, please forgive me. I- I’m not really.. very good at this, letting people in… the whole relationship thing…”
The fact he’s even apologising to you right now just makes you cry harder, when he’s the one who got hit by a fucking car.
He could have died.
That thought does absolutely nothing to calm you down.
“Matt…” you choke out, clinging to him harder as a sob wracks your body.
“Shit” Matt mutters, “come here baby” he says gently before sitting next to you, and pulling you up across his lap, holding you tightly against him, broken ribs be damned.
Immidiately curling into him, you wrap your arms around his neck as he rocks you slightly, pressing soft kisses to your hairline, then your temple.
Every time he talks about being sorry you just seem to cry harder, so instead, he keeps repeating “it’s okay, you’re okay sweetheart” till you slowly calm down a little.
Matt truly feels awful, he really didn’t mean to upset you like this. His first instinct is always to push away people who care about him and he always hurts people. You shouldn’t have to deal with anything like this, with him. Not when he’s nearly twice your age, which he already feels bad about, but it means he should at the very least be stable for you, and Matt just thinks he’s… too much.
He’s the one who planted that seed of anxiety in you by not answering for two days after he’d taken you on a date. He the one who listened to his stupid thoughts that were telling him you deserved better. Someone who wasn’t so busy all the time, someone who wouldn’t get beat up like this every month, someone who’s your own age.
Matt regretted not answering your texts the second he heard you crying through the wall when he woke up.
Karen told him some younger girl stopped by to check on him when she rang Matt later to see how he was doing, after she’d left to go home finally after looking after him for two days while he was still asleep. Figuring it could only have been you, he quickly put the pieces together on what you must have thought when she answered the door.
Only last night, he had still been bed ridden, and he couldn’t go to you. He tried but his body wouldn’t let him. He probably shouldn’t even be out of bed now to be honest, but he’s never been so thankful for his quick healing because at least he could get up and let you in.
Matt’s not even sure what he would have done after not telling you straight away anyway though, just avoid you for weeks? Like that would end well.
Because despite his self-sabotaging, unless you leave him, he’s way too selfish to do it himself. For someone so smart, he can be really dumb sometimes.
“My ex cheated on me” you mumble into his neck once you’d managed to get a hold of yourself, sniffing softly and figuring you owe him some kind of explanation for your extreme reaction, “and I found out… like that, the girl answered his door…”
Those strong arms tighten around you, as his nose nuzzles into your hair.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry” he whispers a little distraught, hot breath on your scalp “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that, and I swear I’d never do that to you.”
The small whimper you make against his throat breaks his heart, and he tries to shift you even closer to him but he lets out a pained sound at the strain on his side from his ribs.
The noise suddenly snaps you out of your melancholy, reminding you that he’s really seriously hurt, and you’re somehow just sat on him.
Matt’s arms tense around you the second you try to move off of him.
“You’re hurt!” You start to complain, sitting up from where you were curled into him despite his resistance, “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“You’re not, please stay, just let me…” he starts before he shifts carefully underneath you, hips flexing, legs widening as he moves you to his other side slightly, trying to find a comfortable position which takes a minute, before settling again.
“Come here” he says gently before coaxing you back down into his chest, and you relax against him slowly.
“Is this okay?” You ask quietly.
“It’s perfect” he replies, kissing your forehead.
The two of you just sit like this for a while, until you take a deep, shaky but calmer breath, finally feeling your anxiety subside as though the feeling of his strong arms around you simply chased it away, the steady movement of his chest making you felt so safe against his larger body.
“Please forgive me?” Matt whispers against your hair.
“There’s nothing to forgive Matty” you reply, just as quietly.
“There is” he disagrees, “I was an avoidant asshole and I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re okay” you say softly, nuzzling into him.
Another comfortable silence settles between you both, and Matt decides he’s got a lot of making up to you, regardless of the fact you forgive him. He thought he was better than that now.
“I’m so proud of you for your article by the way, congratulations sweetheart” he suddenly breaks the silence, “I’m sorry I didn’t say sooner. Will you read it to me sometime?”
The poor organ in your chest skips a beat at his words. He’s proud of you?
“Sure Matty, whenever you’d like” you answer quietly, a small smile on your face now, voice a little sleepy with how warm and fuzzy you were feeling from being cozied up to Matt, with your face buried in the crook of his neck.
“Are you tired?” Matt prompts, his voice still soft, nudging your forehead with his nose gently.
Humming in affirmative, you snuggle further into him and his big, warm body that surrounds you so well, hoping to stay just a little longer.
“Do you want to sleep here? With me?” Matt asks, a little uncharacteristically shy.
The way your heart stutters has him quickly adding “just to sleep, I swear. I don’t think I could do anything like that anyway.”
Lifting your head from his neck, you look up at his face which is still close to yours, moving your hand to lightly trace along his cheek, watching his unfocused, bruised eyes slip shut as you softly rub his skin with your thumb.
“That would be nice Matty” you say, and your smile makes him smile too.
“Yeah?” He asks, opening his eyes again, his gaze landing around your mouth, half expecting you to change your mind.
“Yeah” you all but whisper, and Matt’s placing a soft kiss to your lips, unable to hide his brightening smile as you feel it curve against your mouth.
“I’m really sorry I’m such an idiot” Matt mutters as he pulls back.
“Smartest idiot I’ve ever met” you huff, and your little joke makes Matt feel a bit better.
With a groan of pain that was accidentally louder than he could hold back, he stands and you’re in the air, his strong arms holding you bridal style. He knew it was going to hurt but fuck, it hurt a little more than he expected.
“Matt! Oh my god! Put me down, you need to be careful!” you yelp loudly, partly from surprise and your arms come up to grip around his neck as a reflex, but he just ignores you and carries you to his bedroom.
He wasn’t kidding about the renovations, able to take the time to look at your surroundings properly as he carried you through the space.
You’d never guess you were still in your building, your own slightly rundown apartment on the other side of the wall.
His home is very open plan, which makes sense you guessed, since there’s less things to bump into. There’s exposed brick, steel and metal accents, the furniture was rustic and warm, and it had a very almost industrial loft vibe that was somehow still cosy.
A few long seconds later, Matt walking a little slower than usual because he’s an idiot and decided to carry you with two broken ribs, you’re gently deposited on a soft bed, with silk sheets which surprises you a little.
While he straightens up again, his hand comes to cradle his side, letting out a rough breath.
“Matt” you say gently, standing up again and resting your hand on his shoulder, “sit down, please?”
“I’m fine angel, just- give me a second” he says, eyes shut with a furrowed brow, only to gasp out when he goes to move again.
“You’re clearly not fine Matt, let me help you” you plead, reaching up to hold both sides of his face.
Finally, after a long second, he sighs, defeated, and reluctantly goes to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“If you want something else to sleep in, there’s t-shirts in the second drawer from the top, joggers in the bottom or you can wear some of my boxers as shorts if you’d prefer in the top one, take whatever you want” he starts to explain, running his hand through his hair, “there’s an extra toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink in the guest bathroom” he says with a tilt of his head towards the door in the hallway outside the bedroom, “unless you want to just go back to yours and get stuff?” Matt trails off, feeling a little helpless, but you’re already moving to rummage through his drawers.
Pulling out an old worn shirt that said Columbia University Law Undergrad Class, you nearly settle on that one, until another one buried deeper catches your eye.
This one said Harvard Law School.
“You went to Harvard?” You ask, a little shocked.
“Don’t sound so surprised” he says a little sarcastically, his lips twitching into a small grin.
“No! No I’m not, you’re just… impressive” you immediately defend, before you unceremoniously take your work shirt off, slipping the soft cotton over your skin. It’s not like he can see you.
Behind you, Matt’s breath catches at your sudden revealed skin, swallowing harshly as he tightens his fingers in the bedsheets, willing his body to stay neutral despite the twitch he felt in his sweats, which he can absolutely not get hard in because they would do nothing to hide it.
“You really are the smartest idiot” you joke, and Matt huffs behind you.
Next, you find some Daredevil boxers in his underwear drawer which makes you giggle, choosing those before taking your trousers off, and pulling the red fabric over your hips. His clothes feel so big on you.
“What?” Matt asks, wanting to know what had amused you, though his voice is a little strained because you just keep undressing in front of him and he knows he can’t react.
“Didn’t know you were such a big fan of Daredevil” you laugh, walking towards him and standing between his legs where he quickly makes space for you, lifting the Harvard shirt up a little before taking his hand, so you can run his fingers over the pronounced ‘DD’ on the waistband of his underwear that sat across your stomach.
Matt’s brain short circuits. Like actually stops working for a second.
This is the most intimately he’s touched you, and you did it so casually which doesn’t help his downstairs situation, but nothing prepares him for the sudden possessive feeling in his chest at the thought of you wearing his logo.
Audibly swallowing again, all he stutters out is “I- yeah” a little dumbly.
Chuckling lightly at the mildly flustered older man, you take a step even closer and Matt’s large calloused hands move to rest on your hips, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of you wearing his clothes.
“You can keep them, and the shirt if you want, they don’t fit me any-” he starts, but the feeling of you running your hands through his hair makes his last word of “more” come out as a little moan.
Matt freezes at the same time you do, a light blush pressing across his cheeks at the sound he just made, only relaxing again as you let out another soft giggle and resume your movements in his hair.
Matt lets out pleased hum, and drops his forehead to rest against your sternum as your hands move to the back of his head.
“‘S nice” he mumbles out, practically purring.
“Good” you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, “do you need anything from the bathroom or kitchen while I’m going?”
“Just some painkillers please sweetheart, they’re on the kitchen counter” Matt says lowly, feeling the pain in his side getting worse every second, before easing his grip on your hips and reluctantly letting you walk away, “thank you.”
Slowly, Matt manages to shuffle further up the bed so he’s sat against the headboard. He usually sleeps naked, if he’s honest, or at least in just his boxers, but he doesn’t want you to see the probably horrific, dark bruising on his side, nor the large amount of scars littered around on his skin that are hard to explain.
Karen Karen Karen
Matt’s phone abruptly breaks the silence, and he fumbles to answer it, pulling it if his pocket.
In the bathroom down the hall, you can only just hear his half of the conversation.
“Hey… yeah I’m okay… yeah she came round… we talked, I think everything’s okay now… no she’s still here… yes I know, I know I should have just told her… yeah I know, I’m an emotionally constipated idiot who self sabotages every time I have a good thing and needs to learn to accept help at my big age, you tell me at least once a week… yeah I’ll be fine… are you sure? What about Fogs?… okay, okay, thank you Kar… goodnight.” Is what he says before he eventually hangs up.
Coming back into the bedroom after you brushed your teeth and did your night time stuff, you handed Matt the painkillers and a glass of water you brought him which he gratefully accepts.
When you both finally climb under the covers, you’re a little stiff and unsure still, until Matt immediately pulls you against him, facing you while he’s laid on his good side, wrapping his big strong arms around you and letting you use his bicep as a pillow.
Relaxing almost instantly, you snuggle into his chest, basking in the heat of him, and his arms wrap tighter around you at the feeling.
“I’m sorry…” Matt whispers into the darkness a couple of minutes later “for being an asshole, and that you’re having to see me like this.”
Lifting your head to look at him, your hand finds the side of his face.
“Don’t apologise Matty” you say softly, the nickname just keeps rolling off your tongue, “I’d much rather be here with you than let you suffer by yourself, please don’t hide from me again.”
“I won’t, I swear” Matt promises, guilt churning in his stomach at the knowledge he’s not sure he even can keep that promise.
Mirroring you, his hand finds your face, before his fingertips are slowly tracing over your features with an attention and softness that makes your heart clench painfully.
“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, his voice full of affection as his fingertips move down to your mouth now, pulling your bottom lip away from your teeth ever so slightly, and you realise he’s trying to piece together what you look like through touch.
“Matty” you breathe, warm air on his thumb where he’s touching your mouth, and like he’s under a spell the second you uttered his name, he slowly leans into to kiss you.
The kiss is gentle, unhurried, like he’s savouring you, and unbeknownst to you, he really is.
He came so close to losing you before he even got the change to have you, all because of his stupid avoidance tendencies. He never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t trust him, and the guilt of not telling you everything you deserved to know was starting to eat at him.
Pulling you tighter against him with one hand around your waist, while the other that belongs to the arm under your head buries itself in your hair and the older man continues to kiss you. He kisses you till you have no choice to part, breathing heavily.
“Be mine?” He whispered against your mouth, unable to stop the words from coming out. This was decidedly not how he pictured officially asking you to be his girlfriend.
A breathless laugh escapes you, a little surprised by his sudden question before you’re leaning back into him.
“I already am” you reply, before kissing him again, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his mouth stretching into a wide smile before he kisses you back even more passionately.
The hand on your waist was starting to travel, moving up slightly before it landed on your hip, his fingers flexing against the feeling of his clothes on you, and he lets out a rough little groan into your mouth.
Bravely, he continues down, till his warm hands touch the soft skin of your bare thigh, before going even further, finding the crook of your knee and pulling your leg over his own hip, eager to get as close as he physically can to you, to surround himself in you.
His joggers are getting increasingly tighter, and there’s nowhere to hide that fact while he’s pressed flush against you. You gasp into his mouth when you feel his obvious arousal hard and heavy against your bare thigh.
Matt lets out another deep sound as he smells your own arousal in the air, causing his cock to harden even more and his hand glides back up your thigh, then curling around to cup your ass, squeezing the soft flesh.
The action makes you let out a moan of your own, breathing heavier as the air around you both grows thick with tension.
“Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea what you do to me” Matt groans, his voice rough with need.
As though the universe was sending him a reminder, he’s suddenly reminded of his injured state the second he tries to lean up on his elbow.
The gasp that leaves him is different this time and you can immediately tell it’s from pain.
“Matt we need to stop, you’re too badly hurt” you breathe out, willing yourself to calm down.
“I know, I know” he reassures, though his hands are still exploring, fingertips sneaking under the hem of the t shirt to feel your silky skin.
“I can’t-“ he clears his throat, “I can’t do much tonight but please let me touch you, let me take care of you, please, I need to touch you” Matt nearly begs, his deep voice full of want.
Your heart skips a beat at his devoted words, you’d never felt so wanted before, so adored, and you’re weak to do anything other than accept his plea.
The second you’re nodding your head, Matt’s on you.
His lips meet your own again, with reignited passion as his tongue meets yours, his rough hand sliding fully under the shirt, his long fingers spread wide over your skin and the size difference makes your clit throb in your underwear.
Humming a pleased sound into your mouth as though he can sense what he’s doing to you, his hands glide further up, until he’s ever so softly cupping your breast, squeezing lighting before his thumb brushes over your already peaking nipple. The action makes your breath hitch, and you arch your back into him slightly.
Managing to successfully prop himself up on his elbow this time, the angle shift causes you to roll onto your back, with Matt half on top of you still devouring your lips.
The scarred hands explore your skin, moving to your other breast, smoothing down your sternum, up to your collarbones before returning to your tits, and he nibbles your lip which makes you let out a quiet moan, feeling your skin heat up impossibly fast at his careful yet reverent touches.
Further and further down, his fingers wander until they’re skating over the edge of the Daredevil boxers, and your heartbeat thuds in anticipation as you thread your fingers through his hair, not letting up in his kiss for even a second, even when your breathing continues to pick up. There’s an embarrassing amount of arousal already gathering in your underwear from his simple touches.
Just as he’s about to push his hand further into your underwear, making sure to go slowly in case you want him to stop, Matt tries to sit up more, wanting to kiss down your neck but his body fails him.
After his injury, it didn’t heal right. It causes him more grief than he’d like to admit, usually a deep ache that always settles after he’s been out fighting caused by the recoil of his punches, and tonight, it makes itself known when he twists it wrong ever so slightly.
“Fuck” he exclaims, trying to keep his voice quiet as the sharp pain radiates down through his arm and up his neck, the nerves frayed and damaged, causing him to drop back down on his back, which in turn hurts his ribs and he lets out a rumbling frustrated growl.
Sitting up in concern at his sudden departure, you lay your hand on the middle of his broad chest.
“Are you okay? What happened? I told you you’re too hurt…” you ask gently, trying not to chastise him too much.
“It’s my fucking shoulder” he grunts out, rolling his arm around the joint as he tries to ease the ache, “I hurt it a few years ago and it’s just… never been the same.”
“Oh Matty, we don’t have to do anything really, you don’t owe me something, you’re really hurt, please just rest” you try to appease, but he lefts out a huff, slowly pulling you towards him this time so he can kiss you again, enjoying the weight of where you’re resting against his chest.
“I wasn’t touching you because I think I owe you something sweetheart” he starts, pulling away and holding the side of your face, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb, but his other arm that’s under you starts to crawl down the expanse of your back, further until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass again, “I’m touching you for the purely selfish reason that is I want to.”
His words make your cheeks heat up, and the hand on your face travels down your neck, cupping your throat with a very light touch, not squeezing, just feeling your pulse, causing your breath to catch for a second as even more heat floods through you.
“Well I want you to not be in pain” you manage to mumble out, and Matt can feel the vibrations of your words on his palm.
Matt let’s put another frustrated huff, dropping his hand from your throat to your waist again, feeling his cock still throbbing in his underwear from touching you, and the idea that into floods his mind makes it twitch even more obscenely under the sheets.
“Sit on my face?” He breathes out suddenly. He’s unable to get the thought out of his head now he’s had it, not an ounce of shame in his voice, only pure want.
“What?” You squeak out, a little astounded at his request, eyebrows high on your face. Contradictory to your words though, heat is flooding to your face and everywhere else in your body at the idea.
“You can say no, of course, but if you want to? I just wanna touch you sweetheart, make you feel good, please?” Matt says softly, making sure you know you can refuse him, but he can hear the way your body reacted to his words.
You can’t say you’re not interested in the idea, but a wave of anxiety and embarrassment crashes over you as well at the thought of something so intimate.
What if you’re too heavy? What if you hurt him? What if you did it wrong?
You’d never even done anything that before, let alone with an extremely sexy older man who probably, literally has decades of experience on you. You’d had sex before, of course, but your past lovers weren’t exactly the most… generous.
The hesitation is enough to make Matt open his mouth again, quick to try and fix his potential mistake.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to sweetheart, it was just a suggestion, please don’t feel pressured. We can just cuddle or go to sleep” he apologises, moving his hand to hold the side of your face, and he can feel the heat radiating from your cheek.
“No I- don’t be sorry I’ve just… I’ve never done that before” you admit quietly, glancing away from his face regardless of the fact he’s not making eye contact anyway, suddenly fascinated in playing with the collar of his shirt.
“You’ve never sat on someone’s face?” Matt asks carefully, confused as to how someone could even resist doing that to you.
The small “no” makes his brows furrow further.
“No one’s ever eaten you out before?” He says, a little surprised as he raises his eyebrows, and he can’t hide the annoyance in his tone, though it’s definitely not directed at you.
Nodding your head to answer, only to quickly remember that he can’t see you before you let out a quiet “yeah” like it’s something for you to be embarrassed about.
“Wait, fuck, you’ve had sex before though?” Matt asks a little panicked now with how quickly he was moving, suddenly painfully aware of the age gap.
The stress in his question makes you laugh.
“Yes Matty I’ve had sex before” you reassure him, your tone light.
He lets out a little breath of relief. Not that he would have a problem with that, but he’s been very forward, and he’d hate to have made you feel uncomfortable.
Matt pulls your face down as he sits up a little, so your noses brush, and he’s cradling your face in both hands like you’re something so precious to him.
“That ex of yours is a fucking idiot” he whispers harshly, “anyone who’s had you and didn’t taste you is.”
“No one’s ever even made me come” you admit quietly.
“Jesus fucking Christ” Matt actually groans, dropping back down and tilting his head towards the ceiling, feeling truly frustrated and pissed off at his own gender.
“You can’t tell me that right now sweetheart, fuck, not when I’m like this” he admits, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm, over his bruised nose, his voice rough and laced with actual pain from this whole conversation.
Before you can blink, Matt is suddenly leaning up again, propping himself up on his elbow and pulling you into a deep kiss, his other hand tangling in your hair at the back of your head.
“Let me make you feel good baby, please, I promise I will” he whispers against your lips, and the certainty in his voice makes you turned on all over again.
Ever so slowly, you nod against his lips and Matt actually moans at the idea of getting his mouth on you, or rather you on his mouth.
Those big, calloused hands travel to the waistband of those stupid Daredevil boxers again that shouldn’t make him feel the way they do, toying with the elastic.
“Are you sure?” He asks again, leaning back with his head tilted slightly as he analyses your body for any signs you’re uncomfortable.
The way he’s been acting has you soaked, your breathing is already picking up again and your heart is thudding in your chest with a mix of anxiety and sheer want.
“Please” you whisper, tugging on his hair lightly and a deep groan leaves his mouth, before he’s kissing you again, his long fingers slipping into the waistband of the boxers and your own underwear, before slowly pulling them down and off your body, leaving you in just Matt’s shirt.
Gently his fingers run back up your thigh, softly squeezing the skin, before his hand moves further inwards.
A gasp leaves your lips as he runs his middle finger through your already soaking folds, making sure to keep his touch light. Finding the source of your arousal, the digit coats itself in you before dragging back up to circle your clit softly.
The tenderness in his movement is undoing you nearly as much as the touch itself, and you fall onto your back, arching into him as he leans over you on his side.
Instinctually your thighs part, making more room for him and Matt hums in approval, dipping to press soft kisses against your pulse point.
“You’re so wet baby” he whispers against you, though it comes out as more of a moan. His words would make you flush again but it already feels like your whole body is heating up and a needy little whine leaves your lips as he presses a little harder on your sensitive bud.
“I’ve thought about touching you like this for weeks” he admits deeply, pressing his lips to you in between words, before his finger moves down again, circling your entrance.
You moan out his name when he finally pushes it inside you, gripping his hair in your fists as he sinks his finger in to the last knuckle.
The older man groans at the way your walls clench and flutter around him, at how soaked you are from just his teasing touches. His cock throbs in his underwear, painfully hard now.
A cry flies from your mouth as your fingers accidentally pull his hair even harder when Matt crooks his finger just right, and you arch your back in surprised pleasure when he immediately locates your g-spot, massaging it gently.
His mouth sucks a love bite into your skin, while his digit retreats, only to renter with his ring finger along with it, the stretch causing you to clench around them as you let out another moan, head tipping back into the pillow.
Now deep inside you, his fingertips stroke that same spot over and over, and it has you whining his name, one of your hands moving to his shoulder to clutch at the fabric of his shirt tightly.
Above you, Matt is breathing heavily too. He can taste you in the air already just from how wet you are, his cock twitching every time you tighten around his hand.
Before you can can get too close, Matt withdraws his fingers after a couple of minutes, making you whine again at sudden the loss. Opening your eyes to look at him, you’re met with the sight of him sucking your arousal from his fingers, letting out a deep moan as he finally gets a real taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut.
Staring at him, mouth agape at the filthy display he’s putting on, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together as you clench around nothing.
“Matt” you whine, too needy to care anymore. You just need him to touch you.
Withdrawing his own fingers from his mouth, he falls onto his back.
“Come here” he says gently, pulling you to sit up. His voice is deep and thick with want for you.
With Matt guiding you, you tentatively find yourself gripping the headboard as you spread your thighs over his waiting face, his tongue coming out to wet his lips like he’s starving.
His arms wind round your thighs, hands stopping on your ass and squeezing, before moving them to your lower back to keep you right where he wants you.
The way he presses kisses to your inner thighs has you breathless, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there, and when he started sucking hickeys too, you can’t help the way your hips twitch above him.
“You smell so good baby, so good for me” he groans, taking a filthy breath of you that makes you squeak a little in embarrassment, but it’s quickly dissipated when he pulls you down so your soaked cunt finally meets his face.
Simultaneous moans fill the room, a moaning gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes slip shut, and a deep groan rumbling from Matt’s chest as he runs his tongue through the centre of your folds, finally tasting you properly.
One of your hands flies down to his hair, gripping harshly while the other holds tightly onto the bed frame to steady yourself, and you let out another shaky moan when his tongue dips into your core. He goes as deep as he can as to get his fill of your arousal, surrounding himself in you and the way you flutter around the wet muscle.
Moving up to your clit after fucking you on his tongue in a way that had your legs weak, he flicks and traces circles around the engorged bud, before finally sucking it gently into his mouth.
Above him, you’re moaning and whining, trying to keep still as he alternates between those two actions, switching every time your sounds change in pitch, your walls start clenching erratically around his tongue, or your heart beat starts to thud even louder in his years.
With his tongue back in your cunt, his nose rubs against your sensitive clit and you can’t help the way your hips start to move ever so slightly against him, even though you try not too.
To your surprise though, Matt moans lowly at the movement, nodding his head eagerly while the hands on you actually encourage you to move on his face.
“Take what you need, ride my face, please, fuck you taste so fucking good” he groans deeply into your pussy, the vibrations making your toes curl.
Slowly, you start to move your hips, grinding down on his mouth in a way that has you getting closer more quickly then you ever thought possible.
Matt sounds like he’s drunk on you. When you finally get the courage to peek down at him, he’s got his eyes shut, there’s a unfairly pretty blush spreading across his face, his brow is pinched in a mixture of pleasure and concentration, and you even notice the little rocking motions he’s making, humping the air behind you. He’s very clearly enjoying this a lot, he looks so blissed out.
Matt keeps your pace steady, moving you in the rhythm you set, fucking you deep on his tongue, and moving his head up and down so his nose is stimulating your throbbing clit.
His own hips still rocking, unable to stop regardless of the lack of friction he’s finding. The only the relief being the barely there movements of his cock rubbing against his clothes, but there’s still a wet patch starting to appear on his grey joggers, leaking through his underwear from how turned on he is.
The coil in your stomach is getting tighter, as you feel your finish starting to blossom deep in your gut, and you subconsciously pick the pace up of your hips a little, chasing your end. Part of you is shocked at how quickly you feel it, how he seems to know exactly what feels good for you and keeps doing it.
“Fuck, that’s it, come on my face pretty girl” Matt grunts out, before he’s suddenly lavishing attention to your clit, sucking it into his mouth then flicking it with his tongue in a way that has you keening.
“Oh my god- Matt- don’t stop- I’m gonna- fuck!” you stutter out, overwhelmed by the sudden pleasure taking over you.
A second later, your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave rushing through you like electricity, locking all your muscles as your head tips back and you let out a load moan that echos the walls.
Matt diligently works you though it, moving back down to tongue fuck your hole, wanting to taste you, feel you come around his tongue and your fluttering walls don’t disappoint.
His nose is rubbing against your twitching clit, sending jolts of pleasure that ever seem to end, and the deep, loud groan he makes at the sensation only prolongs the intense pleasure.
It’s the biggest orgasm you’ve ever had.
Keeping his movement up till you start to whine in over sensitivity, he runs his tongue up and down your cunt a few more times, licking up everything he can like he can’t get enough. Now he’s had a taste of you, he’s not sure he ever will.
When Matt finally stops tormenting you, you sag against the headboard, all the muscles in your body relaxing all at once and Matt coaxes you down gently, before he has you curling into his unhurt side, your head buried in his neck as you try to catch your breath, eyes staying closed.
“Good?” He whispers, like he didn’t just blow your mind.
“Wow” is all you can mumble out weakly, and Matt’s chest shakes underneath you as he chuckles at your reaction.
Once your breathing is steady, you sit up again to look at him after a few minutes.
He is still flushed, his tongue occasionally dipping out to lick his lips like he wants to keep tasting you, the lower half of his face still covered in your arousal. His own eyes are shut like he’s basking in the after glow with you, and he looks very pleased with himself.
“Do you need- do you want me to, you know? Do you?” You ask, a little awkwardly as you try to get the words out, feeling shy about offering to suck him off despite the fact he just had his face buried in your cunt.
Matt clears his throat as his eyes open again, landing in your general direction.
“Uh- no I’m, I’m good sweetheart” he mumbles, his cheeks reddening further, and it’s only then, when you glance down to what you thought would be an obvious tent from what you felt earlier, only to find a large wet spot there instead. One that means he just came in his pants, from eating you out.
The wet fabric clings lewdly to his slowly softening cock, making the outline unmistakeable and your eyes linger on the sizeable shape of him.
You can’t stop the little giggle that escapes you at the realisation.
“Too much for you, old man?” You tease, and you feel him huff underneath you.
“Don’t” he groans out, a little embarrassed, as he covers his face with his arm again, but there’s no heat in the word.
He hasn’t come in his fucking pants like that in fucking years. Like he’s some fucking inexperienced teenager.
The two of you lay together in a comfortable silence for a while, until he can’t stand the horrid feeling of his come drying in his underwear anymore, and slowly manages to get up.
You let out a displeased mumble, nearly asleep as he moves away, half at losing his mind warmth, and half because he really needs to stop just ignoring the fact he’s hurt.
“I’m fine angel, just gonna go get something to clean you up with” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your head, before straightening up and making his way to the on suite.
“Shit” he grunts out when he’s there, expressing the pain he’s quickly becoming more aware of now he’s not completely distracted by you, and there’s a deep, horrible ache coming from his side. He might have pushed it a bit, but it’s worth it, he thinks.
It’s not your fault he did like ten sets of pelvic tilts while he was eating out, chasing his own pleasure just as much as yours as he humped the air.
Lifting his shirt up, his fingers graze over his ribs gently, wincing at the contact. He can feel the heat radiating from the injury, and hear the amount of blood that’s pooled under his skin, only imagining how dark it actually is to look at.
Distracted by honing his senses in on his own body as he tries to check his injury, he doesn’t hear you coming to stand in the doorway.
The thing that alerts him to your presence is your gasp.
“Oh my god” you whisper as your hand covers your mouth, and Matt drops his shirt like it’s burned him, but it’s too late. You saw.
You can actually see some of his ribs through the bruise where it goes pale from what must have been multiple impacts, and you realise that his broken ribs can’t even next to eachother. His whole side is black and purple.
“I’m fine, it probably looks worse than it is, I swear” he tries to reassure you, but how can you believe him?
“Matt it- it looks bad” you mutter, coming to lift the edge of his shirt again so you can see, and he reluctantly lets you, lifting his arm to give you a better view.
Your fingers hover, never touching the bruise for fear you’d hurt him, but Matt can feel it anyway, and it makes his muscles tense ever so slightly.
More bruising catches your eye, further onto his chest and you gesture for him to take his shirt off completely. He complies, unable to deny you anything.
“Matty…” you gasp as you take in the rest of the dark bruises littered around his body, ones you didn’t know about. Only, you notice they were at various stages of healing as well, some which were obviously newer were still purple, while others had fades into yellows and greens.
The older man just stands there, letting you observe him and waiting for your inevitable reaction of disgust to the scars you must have noticed by now, but it never came.
Ever so lightly, your fingers trace over some of the lighter bruises on his chest, then over the twisted scar over his shoulder that seems to cause him so much grief, the one that’s undeniably a bullet wound.
Your digits continue to wander over his torso, exploring his lived in skin, tracing gently over the marks you find.
Only then is it that you notice a silver chain sitting round his neck, a small cross sitting between his bruised pectoral muscles.
“Are you religious?” You ask gently, picking the pendant up to look at it.
“Occasionally” he huffs out, half laughing.
“I was raised catholic” he offers, unprompted, “when my dad died, I grew up in Saint Agnes Orphanage, you know, nuns and stuff. I’ve had… my ups and downs with my faith.”
He’d told you about his dad, the boxer, Battlin’ Jack Murdock of Hell’s Kitchen, and his mum leaving when he was really young, but clearly his childhood was a bit of a touchy subject.
Letting the pendant lay back down on his warm skin, you continue on your quest mapping out the details on his body.
He didn’t expect an answer, he was just.. giving you another piece of him. One he could give.
His abdomen tenses under your touch as your hands wander further down, tracing over the long scar on his stomach, and that distracts you a little.
Before you’re even thinking about it, you press your whole hand against the abs you can feel distinctly now, no longer hidden by that layer of softness as the muscles flex.
You really were right when you said you’d pay to see him flex because fuck. He’s so… strong. You knew he was big, but he’s truly a powerhouse.
Matt’s breathing deepens as your hand moves up toward his chest, feeling the crevasses in his muscles until you’re brushing over another scar on his pec, and his breath catches. He nearly fucking whimpers when you lean forward to press a light kiss there.
In anticipation, he waits for the inevitable question of ‘what happened?’ but you don’t ask. You just continue trace and touch his body, pressing kisses to the bruises, scars and marks you find.
Promoting him to turn round, you do the same to his back. Fingers run over his broad shoulders, down the more defined muscles in his back that have you drooling a little bit. More kisses are pressed to the scars he has there too, all different shapes and sizes.
The thing is, you don’t ask what happened, because you think you might already know.
All the little things you noticed start to piece together.
That weird sense of familiarity you felt when you ran into Daredevil the second time, the way he moved his aching shoulder in the exact same way you’d seen Matt do it which had nagged at your brain for some reason. The way him is voice even when deepened was still recognisable to you, in the back of your mind. The way he seemed to care so much about your wellbeing, even putting that USB together for you, which is not something you’d do for someone that you only met properly twice. The times you heard hi m running up and down the fire escape occasionally when you first moved in, the loud sounds and that time he wouldn’t even open the door when you checked on him.
Then there’s random bruises Matt would get, which he always gave you flimsy excuses for, and the way you constantly forget that he’s blind because he moves around so easily, or the way he pulled you out of the way of that cyclist on your date with insane speed. The sheer strength of him that goes way beyond just working out as a hobby.
They’re so similar now you really think about it, their build, their words, their posture, even their age, and you can’t believe you didn’t notice the bottom half of Daredevil’s face, even in the low light. Those lips which had kissed you.
Christ, they’re even both left handed. You’re sure Matt is, he always holds his cane in his left hand, and from footage you’d seen of Daredevil, he is too. He definetly favoured it when you’d met him.
Everything suddenly clicks into place.
He hadn’t been in hit by a car, he had been in a fight.
Somehow, Matt is Daredevil.
Your boyfriend is Daredevil.
The same Daredevil that has saved you not once, not twice, but three times.
Except, he’s blind, so how can he be?
But it’s undeniable now, he has to be.
Continuing your exploration of his skin like you hadn’t just had a mind blowing revelation, Matt just assumes the sudden thudding of your heart is because of the close contact, and he turns to face you again.
“Go back to bed sweetheart, it’s late, I need to uh-clean myself up” he says, huffing out a small laugh before pulling you into a sweet kiss.
Kissing him back, you run your hands through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and you decide you’ll wait.
You’ll wait for him to tell you when he wants to.
Luckily, the next morning was your day off, and it’s a good thing too because you’re not sure you would have been able to find the willpower to climb out of the warm, strong arms that had pulled you tightly against his chest, anchored securely around your middle from behind.
The two of you spent a lazy morning together, basking in each other, loving the smile in his face every time you called him your boyfriend, as the warm light filtered through his bedroom.
You doted on him, unwilling to let him get up for any reason even though he fought and complained, insisting he’s okay and you don’t have to do all this for him.
That didn’t work as well when he’s still shirtless, full view of his agony on display.
Eventually you had to bribe him to let you take care of him with sitting on his face again, which he reluctantly agreed to, but he couldn’t say no to that. Now he’s had a taste, he can’t get enough, and honestly, neither can you.
You stay with him nearly every night while he’s hurt, unwilling to leave him alone for too long while he’s like this, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
A week passes, and Matt is finally okay enough to go back to work, somehow, but you have to admit the bruises looked a lot better. He must just be a fast healer, like a really fast one.
You hadn’t stayed at his since that night, though it’s not for lack of wanting on either sides. Matt just had a lot of catching up to do at work, he was swamped and he was at the office late every night.
He would apologise profusely for neglecting you, even bringing you treats like pastries or flowers when he could hear you were still awake on his way home. Sometimes, he’d even ordered a full meal to your flat once when he couldn’t make the dinner he said he would.
The man looked stressed again though. During his time off healing, Matt was as relaxed as you’d ever seen him.
Now that you’d had your revelation about him, every little detail screamed at you that it’s true. His reflexes were insane, you’re not even sure he really knows he’s doing all of it, like he’s moving before he thinks.
He’d gently guide you away from the corner of the counter you were about to bump into, then playing it off like he’s pulling you into a hug, or he’d pull you out of the way of some stranger who was about to push past you on the street, or how he caught you when you tripped going up the stairs.
Dropped a plate while you were cooking? He’s caught it before it hits the floor, not letting it shatter around your socked feet.
He didn’t even have a good excuse for that one, he moved before he could think, eventually saying he just heard it. He was a little surprised when you didn’t push it. Usually, people accuse him of faking his blindness eventually, especially after something like that.
You’re still not really sure how he’s Daredevil because he is definetly blind. You can’t fake the way his eyes are unresponsive to the light, but you’re beginning to think it’s for something to do with his other senses because what does he mean he heard the plate falling?
The way he tilts his head towards noises increases your suspicions that it’s got something to do with his hearing, at least.
By the second week of being buried in cases, some of them new because there was a sudden influx in people needing a lawyer for some reason, Matt’s getting frustrated.
He misses you. A lot.
The occasional shared meals in the evening where he would cook for you, or you would invite him over to yours, weren’t enough. He’d have to apologise and say he had more work to do and he felt so bad every time, even though you’d told him it’s okay, and that you understand.
And you do. You know how much his job means to him, and he’s helping people. You just wish he would slow down a bit, take a few less cases so he isn’t so stressed and overworked all the time.
He’s pretty much healed now, luckily but he hasn’t even had time to put the suit back on.
Occasionally, when he’s missing you, from his own office, he’d hone into you with his senses, able to do so now he knows your heartbeat so well.
Most of the time, you’re at work, listening to you mumble as you type, or talk to your coworkers. He doesn’t pay much attention to your actual words, he just likes hearing your voice, safe and happy. It calms him down.
And in hindsight, it’s a good fucking thing he did do that.
Today when he tunes in, the whole of The Daily Bugle building is eerily quiet, and then he hears it.
Someone screams. Shrill and terrified, before he hears the gunshot.
Matt’s already moving, pulling out the spare suit he kept in his desk drawer, before he’s jumping out the window.
Thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, and thank you for reading <3
This fic has been cross posted on AO3 • Masterlist
SUMMARY: A report comes in of a crashed UFO just outside of a small town you couldn't even point out on a map. Mulder ends up going alone (due to Scully being pre-occupied), but he meets a very special... being on his travel.
Tags: 18+ MDNI, Reader is only described with purple glitter skin and pure white eyes (which means you can give her your hair type and colour, and your own body shape. ☺️), fem!reader, alien!reader Strangers-to-Lovers trope, slight angst here and there, lots of fluff, Dana Scully makes an appearance, not proof read!!
Word Count: 3.8k
Note: First X-Files fic... Thank you to my wonderful moot @/hellilovedit for helping me with this idea! The final scene is dedicated to you btw.
The sun was setting below the horizon as Mulder broke every road law to reach the crash site. He had heard and read each and every report on it so far. A bright amazing light of purple coming into the atmosphere before a large explosion hitting the Earth's soil.
It was an odd shape, not a plane, no military aircraft anyone had ever seen before. A UFO.
And of course, Fox was on the case. He had never gotten the permission for the use of a car so fast in his lifetime at the FBI. Because if he got there fast enough, he may be able to see the crash. He may be able to find the remnants of a real life extraterrestrial. Finally being able to show Scully that he WASN'T crazy!
He was already half way there when his radio all of a sudden started to grow static. The song broke into nothing but large crackles. But when he looked back up from the radio...
"HOLY—" His foot slammed onto the brakes, the car drifting to the side and spinning out onto the side of the road. Once it finally stopped, he practically threw himself out of the car, adrenaline spiking at a ridiculously fast pace. Because there you stood.
The middle of the road, your arms covering your top half in a protective manner. Your skin was purple and glittery. The depleting sunlight makes you shine ever so slightly. He already knew what you were, where you came from.
"Wow... You're... You're uh..." He didn't know what to say. He was in front of a real life extraterrestrial. Though you didn't look as different as himself or Scully or any other human on this planet, the way you looked like a galaxy embodied would surely catch someone's attention. The wrong type of people's...attention.
"..." You peeked through your arms slowly, this human wasn't acting like what you were taught by your peers. They would speak of them as... Ravenous. Greedy for all that they do not own.
This one? He is acting like you are... Scary? What is the word they use? Awe? Is that the term? He is in awe.
"Uh, hello..." He awkwardly circled his fully flat palm in a half circle motion. "My name... Is Fox Mulder. Fox. Mulder."
Mulder. Fox Mulder. Odd name, but who were you to judge. It was just a name afterall.
"Do you... speak?" Your arms slowly came down from covering your face, Mulder now seeing your fully white eyes watching his every move like scared prey. But the way you stayed silent, Mulder concluded that you had no idea what he was saying.
Which is alright.
Not all pop-culture or theories are correct when it comes to real life. Maybe you had your own... Planet language? He wasn't sure.
"Uh, this is my car." He pointed at the still spun out vehicle behind him. "It's safe. And I won't hurt you. But I'm sure the military most definitely will. So how about... We get into the car. Okay?"
Your raised in confusion look for some reason made Mulder's pulse skip. But what shocked him even more was that you must've understood the term 'safe' as you cautiously made your way over to the car, standing on the passenger side looking confused.
"Oh! Right uh..." He bolted around the front of the car and opened the door for you. You jolted at the movements, staring wide eyed before slowly getting into the seat. AKA, crouching on it.
"That'll... Do. Yeah that'll do." He then gently shut the door and went around the driver's side. He had to get you somewhere covered and safe as quickly as possible.
He's never pulled into a motel car parking space so quickly in his life. He'd already covered you with his suit jacket just in case anyone saw you on the drive back. But luckily, you two didn't drive past anyone on the highway or in town. But what Fox did realise was how much he was just... staring at you. Every time you'd look back he could feel his skin heat up like a kettle and he'd have to look away.
There was no lying about it.
You were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.
The way your skin sparkles like the milky way on the darkest of nights, a universe literally on your arm. And your eyes, was it weird for him to say they were captivating?
"...Safe?" He practically jolted at you speaking. He stared at the way your finger extended, pointing to the motel in front of them.
"Y-Yeah! Safe. Very safe." He fell out of the car before rounding to your side, gently helping you out before getting you inside of the motel room. He made sure all the blinds were shut, the door was locked and you had all the space in the world to marvel at everything.
Because that's what he was watching you do right now. Pressing the microwave buttons and listening to it beep with wonder painted into your face. And when you accidentally pressed the start button and watched it light up? Yeah, his heart stuttered at your small gasp and wide eyes. Hell, you even had a small bounce in your standing position when it did light up.
"That's a microwave. We heat things up in it."
You stared at him for a moment before looking back at this... microwave. A wonderful invention you feel it is.
"Microwave..." Fox heard it, it was such a soft whisper, but even on how soft it was he could hear the absolute fascination pouring out of you.
Maybe once you had gathered enough of the words, you could tell him about where you come from. From outer space. Was it as amazing as he thought it was? Were you from a completely different universe? What was your home planet like? Is it like Earth?
So many questions, but he'll have to wait for answers. And if that waiting meant staring at you now look over a spoon like you found a new species of cutlery? He's not complaining. He'll wait.
"Mul...der." The feeling of two fingers gently pressing his arm made Fox open his eyes ready for danger. But when they finally adjusted to the darkness, he realised it was just you. He reached behind him and turned the lamp on, illuminating your figure for him to finally see. "Muld...er."
"Yeah?" He sat up with a groan and a joint crack somewhere in his body. The couch was hell to sleep on. As he really looked at you, he noticed you looked, confused and panicked. All at once. "What's wrong?"
You didn't speak, you just pointed. He followed your point and saw exactly what the issue was. There was a spider just above the headboard of the bed, just waiting to crawl down but knew it was being watched.
"Ah, alright. Hang on." He threw the thin, not really doing anything blanket to the side as he got up. You watched him grab what he described as a glass earlier and... what even is that? You'll ask later.
"Come on little buddy, onto the newspaper." It only took him a few seconds to get the spider outside. He didn't want you to panic about anything meaningless like a spider. He felt, the military would be less merciful as a spider would be. "All gone. It was just a spider."
"S... Spi..der?" He nodded and his mouth quirked into a small grin.
"Yeah! Spider. Nothing to worry about. How about you go back to sleep, yeah? It's a long journey back to my apartment..." You just heeded his words and crawled back into this massive soft thing. Apparently, a bed.
Humans and their weird but wonderful creations. You put your head down onto those soft... pillows? And you immediately seem to close your eyes. It's a weird phenomenon to you, but you do not hate it.
Fox stayed up a little longer after you fell asleep once more. He tucked the blankets around you properly before he went over to the window, his fingers slotting through the gaps to take a quick glance outside.
The moon peeked in, creating 3 beams of light, but he was focused on the parking lot first. It was dead quiet outside. No one was leaving their room to the vending machine. The front office was closed. Only his and 3 other cars sat there.
If they were being watched, whoever is watching them would be well hidden. But he didn't care, he wasn't going to allow them to make you an experiment for their own gain. From what he has seen so far, you're just like a human, but from lightyears away. But from crashing into Earth on an aircraft no human could likely ever re-create no matter how hard they tried.
His eyes went from the parking lot to over his shoulder, straight to you. Where one of the moonbeams was hitting you dead on. You didn't stir from the light, hell, in your sleep you almost seemed to relish in it.
You were literally glowing.
Fox had to quickly look away, he felt the heat again. The way his cheeks burned hot. He'd only found/met you 9 hours and 16 minutes ago. And 18 seconds but who's counting?
All he needed to do was get you far away from the crash site, somewhere safe. And he really feels it's his apartment. Easy access for him, he can teach you everything you need to know and what you need to understand of how Earth works.
And hopefully through those teachings, he can explain what some humans would do to you. And how he won't let it happen.
He sighed quietly before allowing the slats of the blind to shut. Stumbling his way over to the couch, he collapsed face first onto it. Today had been...a rollercoaster. A fun, scary, exciting one.
But now it was getting off of that rollercoaster and onto safe ground.
Fox got the two of you out of there before the sun had risen. He made sure to put you in one of his hoodies so your face would be covered on the drive there and when you would arrive at the apartment as well.
His eyes glanced to you, your own drooping every now and then like you were still sleepy. Maybe he should've stolen one of the motel pillows for you...
"Just a few more hours now. Then we'll be back at my apartment." It was your turn to then look at him and you heavily analysed his side profile.
This human, by the name of Fox Mulder, was safe. That was something you had concluded so far. He has taught you amazing things already. Like the microwave, bed, glass, clothing and of course... the light switch.
But what you were still not completely sure of from him, was the way he would turn red whenever you stood close to him. He'd go the other shade extremely quickly, and it fascinated yet made you extra cautious. Because what did that mean? Why was he another colour when you stood close? It was all very weird.
All of a sudden Fox let out a small curse under his breath, his eyes constantly going down to the dashboard.
"What...'s wrong?" He gave you a small glance before sighing.
"The gas tank light came on. Which means, we need gas. Which means... an extra long drive back to my apartment."
"Then... go get... gas?" You were learning quick. He figured out you did understand what he was saying, you just didn't know how to respond. Listening is a lot different from speaking.
"We will be. Just a little ways down is a gas station. Get gas there." You nodded gently before looking back out the passenger window. Earth was such a terrifying but beautiful planet. Maybe... Oh, nevermind.
Fox made sure to get gas and go. Plus a bag of plain chips for you to try, as he hasn't seen you eat at all.
Wait.
Does your kind actually eat? Or do you not have to? Maybe a small sniff will be okay. He'll eat the rest if you don't have to eat and/or aren't interested.
"Here." He put the chip packet onto your lap as he started driving again almost immediately. You stared at the packet now in your lap, what even is that?
You then pulled your hands out of the pocket of the hoodie, gently grabbing the corners of the packet, it crinkled against your skin.
An... Interesting feeling. That's for sure.
"They're chips. We eat them, mainly as snacks."
"Ch...ips. Chips." Fox hummed but nodded ecstatically. You then glanced between him and the packet before back at him.
"How does... a human... acquire the chips?"
"Oh right. Hand them here." He took one hand off of the wheel and grabbed the packet, ripping it open with his thumb and pointer finger on the other hand. He then gently handed them back to you and continued driving. His eyes glancing every now and then to you, watching you pick up a chip slowly, cautiously.
You then proceed to inspect and analyse each and every molecule about it. You then brought it close to your mouth, hesitating before then shoving the entire thing into your mouth. So much for taking a small taste...
"Sssssoooo? Thoughts? Do you like it?" You were silent for a moment, your jaw moving until it paused. Well, more your entire body paused. Fox was now ever so slightly concerned, because he's never seen someone freeze up so fast that wasn't caused by fear.
But just as he was about to ask if everything was okay, you started shovelling the chips into your mouth.
"Guess you like them then..." He chuckles.
When arriving back at the apartment, Fox froze after stepping out of the elevator. Because in front of his door stood Scully. Looking as annoyed as ever as soon as they locked eyes.
"Mulder! Where have you been!? We got a call for a case 14 hours ago and I haven't been able to get a hold of you at all!- Who's that?" Her voice went from harsh to soft in a matter of seconds as soon as she noticed you slightly hiding behind him.
"Uh- Well- This is uh- Let's discuss this in my apartment."
When the three of you got inside, Fox quickly went around to move some things before guiding you to sit onto the couch before he then turned to Scully.
"She hasn't told me a name yet... But she's from the UFO that crashed."
"Oh my god! Mulder! Stop with this! You're telling me you just brought a girl with you from there, without knowing her name and now you're using the excuse that she is from the UFO crash? It was just a small plane that crashed! It wasn't aliens!!"
You listened to them bicker back and fourth for a small while, before you decided this noise was enough. So you abruptly stood, making the both of them stop their yelling.
"I... Crashed here." Dana sighed.
"Don't allow him to manipulate his crazy story to you! Who are you-" Dana gasped when she finally got a proper look at you. It was an instant realisation that Fox wasn't lying, neither were you. "Oh my god..."
Fox took a deep and heavy breath in through his nose, his hands on his hips and his jaw tight.
"I nearly hit her with the car. She somehow got away from the military, not sure how... She was just, middle of the highway. There." Dana didn't respond as she inched a little closer to you, careful with her movements.
"What... is your name?" You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto Dana as she stopped in front of you. Not in a threatening manner, no. Almost in a manner that was checking over you, which, she was. You were in a crash, but she saw no physical injuries.
That is when you finally revealed your name, it was soft, practically another whisper. Like saying it would have the evil greedy humans smash through and take you.
Dana looked over her shoulder to Fox, who was just staring at you.
"She's... very much like us." He nodded to Dana's word.
"I think, in her universe, they are the human variants. Another species of human almost. But either way, she's like us. So, no issues here, okay?" He pointed a little at Dana before he went into his kitchen, presumably to cool off.
Dana then proceeded to sit with you for 4.5 hours straight. Asking you all sorts of questions. Some, you weren't sure how to answer. Others? You answered quick, almost energetic like.
Fox noticed how quickly you were warming up to Dana, which is a good step. Because he realises how he framed all humans as most of them would most likely try to harm you. Which wasn't true, but largely true. It means you had 2 people to trust if anything were to go wrong during your time here on Earth.
Fox then grabbed a hold his chest, squeezing the button up tightly. It felt like his heart was going to drop down to his stomach while also racing incredibly fast. The thought of you leaving was... negative in his mind. He couldn't possibly interested in you already, right?
Four weeks later...
Fox had bought a brand new couch for himself. A much more comfortable one. The reason... you may ask? Well he is insisting that you keep sleeping in his bed (yes he cleaned everything off and put it... in piles off of the bed). So one, he won't leave you alone to the mercy of the front door. Two, so he could get you anything if you were to leave the room. And three, so you can practice privacy. A word you'd only learnt the meaning of two weeks ago but you were now using it and practising it all the time. Fox was happy about it.
But tonight, no matter how comfortable he was, he couldn't sleep. There was an off feeling in the air and it was making it hard for him to get into his REM state. Every noise woke him up from whatever minimal state he actually was in. But the final sound to rouse him from his sleep, was a soft sigh and huff. His eye opened slowly, his vision going from the ceiling, to his window, then the floor in front of the window.
There you laid, on your stomach, covered in moon beam. Your skin sparkling brightly. Brighter than he has ever seen it. Like the entire universe was just a copycat of yourself, you were the body and the mind. Well, in Fox's memory you are.
"What are you doing up...?" He rolled out off of the couch, landing onto his hands and knees as he then crawled over to you. Mimicking your position, he followed your gaze to the night sky. The moon was bright tonight, almost like it was speaking directly to you and only to you.
"I think... I'm getting that feeling. That, 'homesick' feeling." Fox's face soon was painted with slight pity.
"Oh, well, maybe more of your people will come here. Find you." You shrugged a little, your eyes not leaving the moon. A few minutes passed of silence before you spoke again. Quietly.
"I miss it, my planet. My family. But... here feels more belonging. I don't know why..." He felt his cheeks heat up a little, did... he make you feel like you belonged? He hoped he did. He's been trying his best to make you feel like everything will be provided and you will be taught everything about anything you wanted to know. "And that part, of me doesn't want me to go home. I feel I want to... stay."
Then your eyes looked away from the big shining rock far away in the sky, to Fox. A man you have come to find as a, friend. A companion of sorts. You weren't sure what the feelings were meant to be describing whenever you felt happier near him. Safer. At peace. But it was a wonderful emotion each time, it made you feel like you were floating.
"Well, you can always stay here. Forever, even. If you'd uh, like to that is." Fox cursed himself internally for sounding like a complete and utter mess. he'd already come to terms that he most likely fell in love at first sight.
Because, y'know, who doesn't fall in love at first sight with an extraterrestrial that you nearly hit with your car? All very normal things happening in the life of Agent. Fox Mulder.
"I'd like that. It means I can collect more of those chubby green men." He snorted almost a little too light-heartly. He bought the packet on a whim, you'd found them, and now you have a collection in a big jar.
"I'll buy you more then, okay? All of them I can find." He then sent you a half up grin, one that made that floating feeling come back. The feeling that made you have to revert your eyes from him back to the night sky.
Fox did the same, the comfortable silence with a tinge of awkwardness sinking back in between you both. That's when you took a deep breath before slowly shuffling over, closer to him. You stopped once your elbows were barely grazing each other.
You didn't look, but Fox did. Personally, he was shocked. And he also felt like a stupid teenage boy with a crush on someone he knew he couldn't have. But since you were doing this... did you feel the same? That small spark of electricity every time you accidentally knocked into each other. Every time you came over to him bouncing up and down like a rabbit excitedly pointing at massive dust pile you found.
Maybe that's what he loved about you. He was interested in everything from where you came from. You were interested in everything from where he came from.
Complete and total opposites but yet... The same. It's been a while since he's had someone like him around. Matching his energy though you probably surpass his by miles.
"Thank you Fox... For teaching me things. Like chips, TV, VHS, privacy. Oh, and the chubby green men." You then leant your head onto his shoulder, your legs gently kicking upwards from your knees.
All the while, Fox was having a very hard time controlling his heart rate and breathing. But he pushed it all down, just for a moment so he could lay his head onto your own. And spoke with the softest murmur that has ever come out of him.
"You're welcome. You can ask me questions any time you need. I'll make sure to answer them all."
You both laid there until sleep took over the both of you. Laying on the uncomfortable floor below, but at complete and utter comfortability with each other.
Fox hopes all nights can be like this...
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summary: Scraping by as a photographer and bartender in new york city, you finally cave under your roommate's pestering and sign up for a sugar baby dating app. The arrangement is simple: Keep Mr Murdock company once a week, and you'll be paid enough to support your artistic pursuits without the side effect of exclusively eating microwave dinners.
Summary: Spike wasn’t someone you associated with if you were sane. Once set on raising an army to kill the Slayer, his plans were quickly crushed—along with his pride. Drunk and bleeding, he ends up face-first in broken glass, only to be found and helped by someone unexpected: her.
Without even realizing it, he carved out a place for himself in her life. A place he hadn’t had in a very long time. And it started to matter. She started to matter.
She didn’t mean to let him in. But Spike kept coming back, and somehow, a space formed for him in her life—quiet, unspoken, and real. What began as reluctant friendship, slowly deepened into something else—something neither of them saw coming.
Note: This is the longest fic I've ever written. I'm just so happy with how it came out. I'm still in the midst of re-reading and editing, but I feel like it's coming along. I can be so indecisive, but overall, I feel like I've been cutting back all the extra fluff.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28
"you don't owe anyone anything" You are a tar pit. Speak for yourself. I personally owe the cafe employees my dishes put away and my friends a listening ear and small scared insects a cup and a gentle trip outside. Hyperindividualism is a rancid infection borne of capitalism and willfully misinterpreted therapyspeak and I will defy it by continuing to be kind regardless of whether or not it benefits me personally
Hear me out, reader who works in the botany department because they know a lot about plants, but they can't keep plants alive to save their life and they're sad about it when they're personal plants start dying, so McCoy starts replacing their new plant purchases with some pretty realistic fakes.
Hear me out, reader who works in the botany department because they know a lot about plants, but they can't keep plants alive to save their life and they're sad about it when they're personal plants start dying, so McCoy starts replacing their new plant purchases with some pretty realistic fakes.
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dailybridgerton
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2087
turnnoffyourmind
